This Darkest Man Read online

  This Darkest Man

  by

  Sinden West

  Copyright © 2014 Sinden West

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons of ebookindiecovers

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter One

  “Any ghosts?” Clay asked with a grin as he set his bag down in the room that I had just said that he could have. He seemed out of place in the room with its delicate antiques and faded floral décor.

  I smiled tightly and shook my head, not sure if he were joking or not. This old farmhouse had enough history to be teeming with them, and strange noises were not unknown in the night, but more likely it was a sign that the place was falling down and needed desperate work. I had started on that by hiring the contractor, but he hadn’t gotten very far because the very first thing that he had discovered was a grinning, yellowing skeleton in the walls. That put a stop to all the work and he hadn’t been back since, not even after I told him that the skeleton was a century old and had been transported to a university to be studied. But as it turned out, any money I had needed to go toward servicing my aunt’s debts so I never would have been able to pay him anyway.

  The skeleton left, and Clay arrived. He was a historian and had heard about the discovery through his connections at the university. He arrived on the doorstep and intruded on my isolation with his easy going grin and absolute gorgeousness. He was model-pretty, with the blackest hair that I had ever seen. I had taken hold of the copy of the book that he handed me that had his name blazoned across the cover in large letters. He was researching unexpected findings in old houses in the area and wanted to do a chapter on my skeleton. What’s more, he wanted to board in the house while he did his research, even after I explained to him that there was no cell phone reception or Internet. Even the electricity was intermittent.

  Why did I let him? Me, who avoided people like the plague for fear of saying something stupid and had lived here in self-imposed exile for the last six months. I could tell myself that it was the money, because the amount owing on the property was enormous and there was no way I could pay even a fraction of what was owed by the deadline.

  But deep down, it was because he was good looking, charming, and smart. All the things that I wasn’t. He couldn’t have been thirty yet and he already had a PhD and published several books and academic articles according to the book jacket of his latest work that he had handed me. I was twenty-three with a mediocre arts degree. Since college ended I hadn’t even attempted to find a job, and the only boyfriend that I had ever had had turned out to be the man of nightmares.

  So I went against the shyness and social awkwardness that was ingrained in me, and invited him, probably flushing with embarrassment as I did so.

  “We eat at seven. Is that all right?” I asked him before I left his room.

  “That’s perfect, Mattie.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  His face relaxed into that easy, gorgeous grin again. “Sorry, Matilda. I thought Mattie was short for it.”

  “Oh, it is. It’s just…no one’s really ever shortened my name before.” I was always Matilda. It was a name that evoked images of a virginal, prim, prudish old maiden aunt and I had hated it for as long as I could remember. I always thought that Josh enjoyed saying ‘Matilda’ when he reprimanded me. He always stretched out my name in a way that had me practically shivering with shame at whatever I had done wrong that time. It was the same with my great aunt, although as she got older, she tended to forget who I was anyway. I wished that Josh would as well.

  Erin, my only friend, was the only one whom I didn’t really mind saying my name. She managed to say it with warmth like she did everything

  Clay was staring at me, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I cleared my throat. “I had better get dinner started.” I turned to leave but he called after me.

  “Matilda.”

  I paused and looked back at him just before I stepped into the hallway.

  “I really do appreciate you letting me stay here. It helps the creative juices.”

  “You’re welcome,” I told him before hurrying away. The old wooden stairs creaked as I walked down them to the kitchen; one day I sure that they would collapse beneath me. A knocking at the door caught me by surprise. No one ever came here; it was so far out of the way.

  One of the farmers who rented some of the surrounding land stood at the door. I always tried to avoid Marie if possible. She was a chatterbox who was always jovial, and she always made me feel lacking that I did not have the same friendliness that she had. I preferred her husband, who was the silent type and only ever waved at me from afar.

  “I’ve just been into town and picked up your mail, honey.” She thrust the small pile of envelopes toward me. The people at the post office obviously ignored federal postal laws. But that’s what it was like here. Everyone knew everyone and you were a newcomer unless your family at lived here for three generations. My family had been here longer than that, but we were never welcome. My kin were wealthy landowners, ruthless and greedy they had often lent money to struggling farmers with high interest and no compassion for those who couldn’t pay. Larsen was still a dirty word around here. My aunt had never cared though, she still considered herself a cut above the rest, even though all that money was long gone and the only thing of value was the land that the house stood on and some of the surrounding fields which were leased out to Marie and her husband.

  “Thank you.” I took it from her, knowing that I should have invited her in for coffee.

  “You’re welcome. Did you buy yourself a motor bike?” She indicated with her thumb in the direction of Clay’s shiny black bike that stood in the front yard.

  “Oh, no. It’s just someone inquiring about the skeleton.”

  Marie nodded knowingly. “Some people are so ghoulish. Anyway, if you need any help, you know where we are!” She waved at me as she stepped off the porch and walked toward her truck. I flicked through the letters. They were mostly bills, and I placed the one with the ominous red and black Hellman logo at the back, but one had Erin’s flowery handwriting on the front. I grinned as I ripped it open. She was away teaching in France and I missed her terribly. She had befriended me in college and was the closest friend that I had ever had. Actually, she was probably the only real friend that I had ever had.

  “Hey, Miss Matilda,


  How are you babe?

  Staying away from nasty Josh I hope? If I find out you’ve let that asshole back in your life, I’ll jump on the first plane back and deal to him for you”

  I grinned. I had never known how important it was to have someone on your side before she had made me see sense about Josh. The rest of her letter babbled in great detail about the hot French men that she’d met and the food. A small bit of jealousy reared in me. She was so bold and outgoing. I couldn’t imagine ever just up and going to a foreign country on my own.

  There was another envelope hidden amongst the bills, and I didn’t spot it until I placed them on the kitchen table. Josh’s strong, upright writing filled my vision, and I stared at it for so long that the black ink seemed to swirl and move in front of my eyes. I could just imagine him saying my name and address as he wrote. Matilda would succinctly roll off his tongue and his shiny white teeth would be revealed. I let the envelope drop.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I jumped, finding Clay standing behind me.

  “Um, yeah.”

  He smiled down at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that you looked very pale for a moment there.”

  I waved my hand dismissively like it was no big deal. “Sorry, I’m just not used to having other people around. You took me by surprise.” I gathered up the letters, making sure that Josh’s was buried within the others so I didn’t have to see his writing mocking me.

  I was aware of Clay still peering down at me and I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You looked sick, like you were going to vomit.”

  “Oh, I just, um, got a letter from an ex. It brings back bad memories.” I wiped some hair out of my face nervously. I really did suddenly feel sick, but that was a feeling that Josh had frequently brought out in me. Toward the end, it would be odd to have a day in his company where I didn’t have that feeling.

  Clay took me by surprise when he plucked the letters out of my hand. “And what’s the name of this unsavory ex.”

  “Um, Josh. Why? I don’t want to read the letter.” Instantly, I felt stupid at how panicked my voice came out. Stop being so dumb, Matilda. It’s just a piece of paper. He can’t hurt you.

  His lips turned up in a kind smile. “Of course you shouldn’t read it. Do you have a lighter?”

  “In the cupboard above the sink.” I sank down into a chair as I watched him.

  He carefully plucked out Josh’s letter and left the others in a neat pile on the table, before searching through the cupboard for a lighter. Once he found it, he set fire to a corner of the envelope and held it above the kitchen sink while it burned; only dropping it once it nearly reached his fingers.

  “There, all done.” He turned to me with a grin once the fire was extinguished and Josh’s letter sat as ashes in the sink. “Simple.”

  I let out a slight laugh of disbelief at his boldness. “I can’t believe that I never thought of that.”

  “I had a girlfriend once who was into all that holistic crap. That’s how she cleansed herself of bad things, by burning them. She’d do it after every relationship apparently.” He frowned slightly before his lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “Actually, after we broke up, she tried to burn down my apartment.

  “What? That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah, she was definitely crazy.” He pulled out the chair beside me and sat. “So, Matilda, what do you do around here for fun?”

  “Fun? I read and clean. That’s pretty much it.” Boring, you are so boring. I racked my brain for something interesting to say but came up short, as usual.

  “Well, there sure are a lot of books around here. Your aunt must have loved reading.” He sounded like he was really interested. Whether he actually was or not, I couldn’t tell, but I envied people like him, people who could put on social niceties to win over others whenever circumstances required it. People with charm, and this Clay Holt had plenty of that.

  “They’ve actually been collected by the family for generations. Some of them are so old that they should be behind glass but no one’s ever bothered. I guess it’s up to me now.” His denim-clad knee brushed against mine by accident, and I almost lost my train of thought at the reminder of his proximity. “Um, I guess I should get dinner started,” I started to stand, but his hand came to close over mine.

  “Sit, please? You still look pale. Let me cook you dinner. It’s the least I could do after showing up unannounced.”

  “That’s not necessary—“

  “It is.” His hand squeezed mine in a comforting gesture before letting go. “Sit.” He rose, and his leg brushed against mine again.

  He moved about the kitchen like he owned the place, more comfortable in this strange house than I was in my own skin. He chatted all the while as he created an artistic looking pasta dish. “Ta da! What do you think?” He lay the dish down in front of me.

  “Beautiful,” I told him as he began to grab silverware.

  “I should have brought wine. I’m a terrible guest.” He sat down and began to serve up.

  “Actually, there’s wine in the cellar. I’ll get it.” I stood and made for the small doorway that led downstairs. I switched on the light beside the door and there was a buzzing noise before the stairs were finally illuminated. “This whole place needs new wiring. I’m scared that every time a light’s turned on that the house will go up in flames.”

  “That explains all the candles.”

  I jumped. I hadn’t realized that he was right behind me and gave a nervous giggle.

  He gave me that blinding grin again. “Sorry, I thought I might come down with you since that’s where the skeleton was found, right?”

  “Right.” God I was stupid, jumping like that. “Just wait until I’m down first. I don’t trust these stairs with the weight of two people on them.

  “No problem.”

  I started down the stairs, tensing at every creak that they made and as I felt them move under me with each step that I took. As always, I held my breath until I reached the safety of the bottom.

  “You weren’t kidding about these stairs!” Clay called as he followed me down. “We probably shouldn’t be using them.” As he reached the foot of the stairs, his attention immediately went to the hole in the wall that the contractor had made and what had served as the resting place for some poor soul for decades. He walked over to it, casting his eyes around the dark space. “Poor guy. What a way to go.”

  “It was a lady; they said when they came to collect her. Haven’t you started the research yet? I’d love to know more about her.”

  He turned back to me. “I prefer to get a feel for the place first,” he said smoothly.

  “Okay. Well, here’s the wine. I don’t know if any of its any good or not…”

  Clay moved over to the collections of bottles, which covered one entire wall as he gave a low whistle. “That’s quite a collection.” He pulled out a bottle and blew off the dust covering it. “You should probably get someone in to value it. This bottle’s a hundred years old. The name doesn’t mean anything to me though.” He replaced it and pulled a few others, inspecting them closely until he finally decided on one. “Here.” He held it up. “This is only a few years old. We’re probably safe to drink it without robbing you of your fortune.”

  I stepped closer to the wine and scanned my eyes over them. “You really think they might be worth something?” I managed to disguise the hope in my voice. “My aunt left a lot of debt against the house.”

  “I think you should at least look into—”

  The light flickered and then everything went black.

  Chapter Two

  “You’re not scared of the dark are you?” Clay asked in the darkness.

  “I like the dark.” My voice was stronger somehow now that he was unable to see me. It was true. I loved the dark. No one could see you tremor with fear, or see your cheeks flush a violent red with embarrassment. The darkness was my friend.

  I felt him move, something bru
shed against me and then my hand was encased in the warmth of his. “I’ve got the wine. Let’s go.” This was the first time that I had noticed what a sexy voice he had, before I had been so entranced with how good looking he was. He pulled me along and toward the stairs. I should have been the one leading since I knew the house better, but he got us smoothly to the stairs and warned me when I reached the first step.

  The lights were out as well when we reached the top, and he seemed to hold onto my hand a fraction longer than necessary once we were free of the dangerous stairs, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

  “Lucky we cooked dinner when we did, huh?”

  The moonlight was casting enough light in through the window for us to see. “I’ll get the candles.” I fetched several candelabras from the formal dining room and brought them into the kitchen. He had already found wine glasses and filled them red wine. He passed one to me after I set the candelabras down.

  “Beautiful. A candlelit dinner. Bon appetite!” He lifted his glass and I did the same, clinking them together in a toast. His pasta dish was divine, and I ate more than I normally would. It was so odd actually having company for dinner. Normally, I just read as I ate. I’d lost weight since I had been here, not that I had much to lose in the first place.

  “So, will you get an electrician to come in the morning?” he asked after he’d finished his meal. He relaxed back in his chair and sipped his wine, but I was so aware of his eyes keenly on me. It was good thing that the electricity had gone out and left us with only dim light, that way he couldn’t see me blush every time he asked me a question.

  “Usually, they come back on by themselves. I need to get it sorted out eventually but it’s such a big job that I need to make sure that I have all my aunts financial affairs in order first. She left everything in a bit of a mess.” Plus they’re going to sell everything out from under me…

  “Were you close?”

  I laughed at the absurdity of the idea, or maybe it was the wine going straight to my head. “No. Definitely not. She didn’t like children, or anyone for that matter. My parents use to dump me on her every summer and she made it pretty clear that she didn’t like company, and I could either stay in my bedroom or play in the basement if I wasn’t outside.”